


This Poisoned Blood we Share

by LysSerris



Series: This Poisoned Blood of Ours [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Drinking, Dark Hermione Granger, Discord: Bellamione Cult, F/F, Vampire Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Vampire Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LysSerris/pseuds/LysSerris
Summary: The attack on the Ministry is in full swing, and Bellatrix is living up to her reputation. Until, that is, a worrisome problem presents itself.





	This Poisoned Blood we Share

**Author's Note:**

> This is a stand alone portion of a larger work. See other work in this series for continued writing. No Beta, no editing.  
> Enjoy.

The last dregs and snaps of magic were still swirling throughout Bellatrix’s body as she stepped past the wardline of Malfoy Manor. Sharp nailed fingers trembled against the lace covering her arms and stretched the bits of fabric that had been torn and cut to ribbons that streamed down her pale skin. The breath of her charge came out as warm pants against the skin of her neck as she breathed out her energy. The witch was practically purring in her arms as they entered the Manor proper.

Her feet automatically sought out the Dining Hall that had become her Lord’s favored meeting place since his arrival on this side of the veil. Her Lord preferred to lead debriefings all at once and as quickly as possible to get the best information possible while also congratulating his troops on a job well done. That it was also a perfect place for public punishment was a fact that went unsaid despite them all understanding and knowing it. The group that sat was as calm as they could be after a fight of such intensity, multiple members still breathing heavily as they soothed their pent-up battle lust.

Those who had been with him since the First War were the best equipped to ride out the tidal waves of emotions, bodies calm and minds calculating as they shoved aside their spiraling feelings in favor of reverence to their Lord. The newest members however, like the witch burrowed into her atop her lap, still had issues with the control of their emotions after particularly stressful situations. They all coped in different manners but the results were usually the same. But this time being her charge’s first, unauthorized, mission… Well, she’d needed a particular sort of settling.

Soft words directed downward along with warm kisses against bushy hair and temple had been enough to calm the most of her nerves. The actions left her to juggle the task of grounding the witch and keep herself from falling too far into her own desire. It was a hard task, but one she was uniquely suited to. Throughout the debriefing her charge continued to tremble with lust and hunger at uneven intervals, rage coloring her cheeks even as tears leaked down to stain them. It took more willpower than Bellatrix knew she had to keep herself invested in her Lord’s words as the latent instincts in the back of her skull urged her to punish and reward the trembling figure in her arms.

\---

The battle hadn’t been planned. 

The mission itself had been simple; intercept the Potter brat, obtain the Prophecy, leave. Blood being shed wasn’t a priority but hadn’t been explicitly forbidden by their Lord, save with the exception of Potter. None of them were to even touch the boy if it could be helped. 

Dolohov had been panting beneath his breath at her side while she sent out maniacal cackles into the darkness of the room, intent on unnerving and weakening her opponents before a fight could even break out. If they could get them to turn over the Prophecy with a minimal amount of force then it would be all the better. Not that she cared too much either way. And it had been working for a time. Potter was quivering in his shoes as the group of students surrounding him had condensed in on one another, none willing to be on the periphery of their little rescue team.

But of course it had all gone south. And, of course, it had all been Lucius’s fault. Not that she hated her brother-in-law, he could be quite useful when necessary, but he wasn’t exactly known for his subtlety or skills in diplomacy. So when everything went tits up she could do little more than laugh at the absurdity of it all and join the fray.

It had taken Lucius only one poorly chosen sentence about the boy’s mother for the entire group to become riled up enough to sabotage all the remaining Prophecies. The Prophecy was clutched between his dirty little fingers as he began shouting out spells and dodging between rows of glass orbs, blue light emitting from them to light up the terror in his eyes. All around them shelving units began to buckle under the strain of missing members as heavy glass orbs fell from impractical heights to crash back on one another and continue the domino effect.

The few Death Eaters not quick enough to immediately search out the exits had instead found themselves pounded into meat paste beneath the cascade of glass, bodies crying for help as the room suffused with the iron tang of blood. It brought Bellatrix a measure of strength to smell that lovely liquid pooling all around her, forcing her to kick up her speed and spin away into darkness and mist with Dolohov obediently at her heel. She ducked, twisted, rolled and spun around waterfalls of blue light as deftly as a bird through a storm until something up ahead caught her attention.

A lone student stood before the exit to the room, wand raised up and at them as the barreled forward. With only seconds to spare the child threw up a Protection Charm that covered the whole hall in a wall of bluish light that caused Bellatrix and Dolohov to come spinning down to a halt at the risk of being smashed apart. The protection fell away as soon as their feet returned to solid ground and a growl of anger had fled up Bellatrix’s throat at having been so rudely interrupted only to have her prey turn and run.

The child, long blonde hair flying haphazardly behind her, shouted out  _ “You’re welcome!” _ as she disappeared through the doorway. Anger bubbled up Bellatrix’s chest at the nonsensical interaction, forcing her back into flight as she took off at a rapid pace towards the door.

\---

From that point onward the battle had run a rather predictable course. They moved into the Atrium after finally escaping the winding depths of the D.o.M., ending up in the long hallway of fireplaces that served Floo travel to the incompetent Ministry workers. Order members and Death Eaters poured into the space in a rapid advance. Their mission hadn’t been supposed to end this way but Bellatrix wasn’t one to turn away at a chance for good fun, and killing off members of the Order always served to put a smile on her bloodstained face.

In a twisted stroke of luck however, the tardiness that had been imposed on her by the intrusion of that blonde child made itself apparent as she marched off towards the bulk of the fighting. In a flash a great gout of flame had erupted from a nearby Floo to reveal the aged form of Mad Eye Moody. His magical eye had immediately swiveled in her direction, and she felt a drip of ice into her hungering stomach. Moody might have been old and decrepit, but he was still considered the best fighter for the Order with the exception of Dumbledore himself. It felt somewhat fitting to her that the Lieutenants should fight each other, and she bit back the cold chill shoving its way between her shoulder blades with a sharp fanged bite to her lips, before throwing herself into the fight.

The old man was good, she’d give him that, but Bellatrix was by far the faster fighter. Her speed and reflexes were aided by her unnatural physiology while Moody was propelled forward by his years of experience that came with being a battle hardened veteran. Spells and hexes flew off between the two of them as the battle raged on in full around their heads. He pushed, she pulled, and eventually she had him cornered off to the side of the main action, hidden behind a statue and a corner where no one else could disturb them. 

Marble and hastily erected shields collapsed all around them to spit up dirt and dust and blood into the smoky atmosphere of half darkness that permeated the Ministry at this time of night. Eventually they were both peppered with bruises and cuts as the fight took its toll on them both. The smell of it all urged her ever onward, metal lingering in the air as she took in heaping lungfuls of air to continue cackling in her assault. The fight stagnated between the two titans until eventually the tables turned.

Moody shot forth at her with a speed she hadn’t known he’d possessed, wand pressing forward with a blindingly white spell of pure fury while his walking stick copied the action on a smaller scale. The hand holding her wand dipped down low as she conjured a protective shield and braced herself for the impact. In less than a second the first spell struck the shield and nearly shattered it completely, sending shock waves up her wrist and pushing her back several feet as her heels slid on the marble floor.

Her downfall however was the second spell, moving unseen, that had dipped off and curved around her shield to slam painfully into her ribs. She could feel the crack and snap of bone as his spell pushed aside her flesh and burrowed up against her chest cavity while the momentum pushed her to the side like a rag doll as she fell.

The blast sent pain lancing up her spine and into her rollicking body while a scream of pure fear and pain exploded out of her throat. It wouldn’t kill her, she knew that, but the overwhelming pain and sudden sense of uselessness was more than enough to shatter her barely held together composure. The old Auror walked up to her slowly, no longer in the mood for taking prisoners, while he sheathed his wand and kicked her own away from her outstretched hands.

Her body automatically cringed back in pain and fear and delirium while he tutted at her like she was a spoiled schoolgirl. Her hand was still outstretched as she searched the deep reserves of her energy for even the littlest amount to send her peeling off into the darkness and when none arrived she knew she was well and truly done for.

Anger renewed itself in her veins at the injustice of it all, to be sent to Azkaban for fourteen bloody and maddening years to only end up free for a few months before death came for her. Sweet freedom was being torn from her yet again and only so recently after finding something that she could well and truly enjoy as her own. Her cold heart let out a pang of loss and sadness as her mind drifted off into thoughts of her charge, securely locked away in the Manor with her sister, the one thing she’d been given as her own and now she was to be torn from her completely.

She calmed herself with the last bit of composure that she had, content at least that if she died the new life she had claimed would live on without her, safe with her sister. Borrowed blood continued spilling out the gash in her side to coat the black marble beneath her as it swirled with ash and dust from their battle. Moody reached her faster than she’d expected, walking stick pointed at her face and one eye glaring death at her from beneath its hollow.

As the Auror began to cast, a brilliant green flash burst forth from the fireplace situated beside them, a figure stumbling out through the unlocked Floo. In a flash the new arrival was darting forward faster than humanly possible, at once speeding up and slowing down as it zigged and zagged against the cool tile, trainers squeaking in protest against the sudden shifts. Moody took notice of the intruder as his magical eye swung through the side of his head to stare at her, body swinging slightly as he turned to the side.

Time seemed to still as her charge came barreling forward low and steady, one hand reaching down to scoop up the fallen witch’s wand. A crazed smile painted itself across Bellatrix’s face in the sharp relief of madness of and sharp teeth, eyes glinting with dark appreciation as the figure closed in. Moody had finally realized the danger he was in, body turning and free hand darting down to draw his wand, but it was too late.

Two shouted words and a flash of green, then Auror Mad-Eye Moody was no more. 

His corpse dropped with a thud upon the marble, walking stick clanking heavily against the ground as it bounced and rolled away.

The body sprinting towards her collapsed into a heap at her side once she’d passed the dead man, a wrist shooting out to be placed against Bellatrix’s lips and a shrill order to bite ringing out into the stillness.

A flash of a half thought crossed over Bellatrix’s mind, a desire to disobey the panicked witch and instead sit there and petulantly die at the injustice of  _ her _ charge ordering her around like some common neonate. Alas, the exsanguination forced on her by the tear in her body was too much to overcome, and she shelved the childish attitude for later. She bit down with no further prompting and immediately began to drink.

Warmth immediately flooded her mouth as the tingling sensation of fresh blood entered her awareness. Her tongue swirled lasciviously against the ragged puncture marks, no nice pinpricks of gentle slices when her charge disobeyed her, and she allowed herself to get lost in the sweetness of it all. Swallow after swallow brought a soothing rush to her burning body as torn flesh began knitting itself back together while she greedily lapped against the wrist.

In short order she was back to her optimal self. Body healed, skin and mind thrumming through the haze that her neonate’s blood had shrouded her with. As her senses sharpened, colors popped into her vision in a kaleidoscope range that a human could never hope to interpret while with renewed energy and vigor she stood up from her supposed death bed. When she had her feet underneath her she reached forward to grasp the hem of her charge’s shirt, pulling her closer and into a blood tinted kiss. The brunette gasping against her lips pulled back to swipe her tongue against Bellatrix’s cheek and lips in an attempt to clean up the wasted blood, eyes warm and red in the faded light of the hallway. 

Bellatrix forcefully pushed the other witch backwards once she’d regained enough control of herself to accomplish that task with little difficulty, her voice ringing out furiously about the clear breach of her orders. She promised the witch a punishment deserving of her actions before biting furiously at the soft lips and turning them both towards the occupied battlefield.

Bellatrix threw her charge to the ground with express orders to remain until Bellatrix collected her before casting a quick Disillusionment Charm to protect her from being seen. From there she dove into the fray in manic service to her Lord. He’d finally arrived at some point between her arrival and Moody’s demise and had proceeded to cut a bloody swath through the Order’s defenders.

Their attack proved to be a success in the long run. Her Lord goaded the Potter brat and Dumbledore into an uneven fight while Lucius lurked on the periphery to await an opportunity. When one presented itself, he dove forward to snatch the Prophecy from the literal hands of destiny, turning away and into a cloud of thick black smog before shooting off towards a Floo.

When the rest of their group realized the mission had been a success they each dispersed and sought escape from the confines of the Ministry. Some dashed off towards the Floo’s while others took up spots to protect the retreat, falling nobly in service to their Lord’s ideals. Bellatrix allowed herself to come undone and flew as a swirling black mass towards her silently waiting charge. 

As she passed into the hallway she reached out a corporeal arm and wrapped it around the girl’s waist, dragging her from her seated position and simultaneously yanking the arm that had wormed down her front to relieve her own mass of strong emotions. With a cackle and a bite she threw them forwards and through the nearest Floo, both popping out on the other side in a heap of tangled limbs and hair.

The duo lay smashed together on the floor of Black Manor, roaring cackles flying up each’s throat as they gave in to the rush of having made it out. When their emotion settled Bellatrix stood and dragged her neonate to her feet before pulling her up against her chest and turning on her heel. The snap of disapparition filled the room as they made their way to the gates of Malfoy Manor.

\---

And now, they were here. 

Bellatrix was seated rather uncomfortably upon a stuffy wooden chair with inadequate padding while Hermione curled up against her chest. Her body still thrummed and twitched with the last dregs of bloodlust and energy. Small fangs, not yet fully grown into the sharp weapons they would become, pinched and pierced against the skin of Bellatrix’s now bare arms. The lace had been torn off of them in a fit by the younger witch, sharp nails dragging painfully against her until lines of blood had begun to flow casually down to her wrist. 

The mood inside the room was comfortable, if a little wound up, as each person in attendance delighted at the blow they’d struck to the Order. Many pleased glances peered out across the table to view the young vampire wrapped up on Bellatrix’s lap. She’d singlehandedly struck down a high ranking Order member, one that many had thought of as invincible after his many years of service, and the pride within the group was palpable.

Warm feelings that she’d thought she’d abandoned were swiftly working themselves throughout Bellatrix’s cold heart with each bite and scratch that the young vampire with her arms trailed across her body. Even as she sat there though, her full attention was tuned to her Lord. Everyone that was seated at the table let out a collective holler of thanks and congratulations when their Lord praised them on their actions that night, throwing the gratitude back to their Lord with claims of fealty and recognition of how they couldn’t have accomplished it without him. Even the little one gently squirming in her grasp made a show of thanks to him, her eyes shining with feral hunger and devotion. 

Some might have thought the devotion was directed towards their Lord, but Bellatrix knew better. If anything, the events of the past few hours had indirectly shown exactly where the new vampire stood with regard to her progenitor, regardless of how much animosity their relationship had first fostered.

\---

Eventually the group was released from their debriefing, free to resume their daily lives or remain at the Manor until such a time as they were needed again. The young vampire, tired from the events of the day, collapsed into a heap in Bellatrix’s arms while her mouth remained latched onto the curve of Bellatrix’s forearm. Eventually the silence of the room began to grate on Bellatrix’s remaining nerves and with a heavy sigh of exhaustion she pushed herself up from the chair and kept an arm wrapped securely against Hermione. As she passed the entrance she performed a last half-bow towards her Lord, who smiled at the pair before waving them off.

A smile broke across her face as she wandered up the steps to their chosen room and her tongue dipped down to lick away the remnants of Hermione’s feeding. The fledgling vampire, thought still young and inexperienced, had wormed herself between the rotting flesh of Bellatrix’s heart. 

And she could hardly wait to see where she grew from here.


End file.
